“Oh, my God, shut the fuck up.” I pick up a pen and toss it at him. He moves out of the way, and it hits the wall.
Preacher tilts his head in Rip’s direction. He has his body partially turned as he speaks in hushed tones, but he lets out an unguarded laugh, which is unlike him. I never heard him laugh before he got a girlfriend, and part of me is envious of that.
Our life can be isolating, but it’s the life I chose out of necessity. I never had much. Not until my mother married my stepfather when I was seven. For the first time in my life, I had a nice place to live, toys, and a dad.
My mother had me when she was only sixteen, and I never knew my biological father. He joined the military out of high school, and other than the small child support he paid my mother, we’ve never had much of a relationship.
My mother met Neal Richardson when I was six, and they married by the time I was seven. Even though he never formally adopted me, he’s the only father I ever had and the only one I ever needed.
We were a family, and when I was sixteen, my mother gave birth to my sister. I didn’t know it then, but my sister, Josie, was a miracle baby because Neal thought he could not father children.
My stepfather owned a diner, and my mother worked there part-time. Everything was going well until he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. His symptoms were aggressive, and within three years, he was in a wheelchair. He was dead within five years. On his deathbed, Neal made me promise to always take care of my mother and sister. He told me I was the man now, leaving me in charge, but he would be looking down on me from heaven.
I gave him my word, but I knew when he took his last breath, that would be it. I never believed in a higher power, heaven or hell, but I’ve always been a man of my word.
“Thorny!” I hear Rip yell. “Baby? Talk to me. Are you there?”
Preacher and I freeze while we stare at him. He calls her name again and runs out. Preacher follows him.
Chapter 15
Cori
“It had to be Eden,” I say while wiping a stray tear. Selene would typically comfort me, but she’s wiping her own tears. “It was before this happened. It’s her, right?”
Selene weeps on the other side of the couch, and I pull her close. We hold each other through our tears. Minutes later, Selene looks at me with bloodshot eyes. I wipe her face with the back of my hand.
“It wasn’t Eden,” Selene says. “She—”
“She’s full of money now. Rip gives her whatever she wants. Maybe he proposed—”
“Eden would never buy your favorite dress and—”
“You’re right. She wouldn’t,” I concede.
“Someone out there thinks you’re talented and paid fifteen thousand dollars for a dress you made.”
“But I want Eden to wake up so I can tell her. She’ll say I told you so and will clap her hands in excitement.”
“She will, and she’ll be so happy for you. Happier than I am because I only want my friend back.”
It’s been two days since Eden was involved in a head-on collision that’s left her unconscious. She’s not in a coma, but she hasn’t woken up yet, and with each passing minute, I lose a little bit of hope.
Selene pulls me closer, and I rest my head on her shoulder. We’re not just cousins, but best friends. When she moved to Shadow Cove when she was eleven, we became inseparable, and she fit right in with Eden and me. The three of us have always been there for each other.
We sit in the back of the hospital waiting room. It’s tense. It’s always been tense because Eden’s family hates her man, and he refuses to leave the hospital without her.
Despite the hatred, there’s an unspoken truce. Still, whenever Ripley King enters the waiting room, his eyes shoot daggers at Eden’s family, especially her sister, Sylvie, who tried to have him removed from the hospital.
Luckily, Eden’s parents were wise enough to shut that down.
Ripley’s heavy footsteps fill the room while he paces. At one point, he puts both hands on his face and grunts in frustration.
“You want to sit with us, friend?” Selene asks him. He stops mid-pace, and I expect him to either ignore or refuse her, but he takes the seat next to her. Selene rests a hand on top of his, and I put mine on top of hers.
He looks at us. He doesn’t smile but gives us a small nod.
“She’s going to be okay.” If I say the words often enough, they will come true. “She has to because we love and need her.”
